All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Regret: Chasing His Ex wife : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

LACHLANI should have been there. The thought ran circles in my mind, looping through every possible scenario in which I had somehow kept her safe. I was supposed to protect Amelia. But I had left her alone, vulnerable, and now she was in the hospital, recovering from an attack that could’ve cost her life. Worse, our child’s life. I clenched my fists so tight that my knuckles cracked, trying to keep my anger in check. It was mostly anger at myself—a gnawing, bitter frustration that I hadn’t been there when she’d needed me.Matthew sat beside me at the police station, scrolling through images on the detective’s tablet, helping to sort through potential suspects. He was silent but tense, his face a mirror of my own worry. I could see in his eyes that he was as furious as I was about what had happened. If he’d been there earlier, maybe he would have stopped those men. But he wasn’t to blame, and deep down, I knew that. The responsibility fell on me alone.“You don’t have to stay, Matthew

AMELIA I woke up slowly, my mind drifting through a thick haze, like I was trying to wade through fog. For a moment, everything was blurry, and a tightness settled in my chest. Where was I? Was I still at the hospital?Then I felt the warmth of a hand over mine, firm but gentle, and everything came rushing back. Blinking, I looked up to see Lachlan sitting beside me, his face tense but softening as he noticed I was awake. The sight of him washed away the last traces of fear, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding.“Lachlan…” My voice was barely a whisper, but his expression shifted, relief flooding his eyes.“I’m right here, love,” he said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.I wanted to tell him everything I was feeling—how scared I’d been, how grateful I was that he was here now—but the words felt tangled in my throat. Before I could even try, the door opened, and a middle-aged man in a white coat stepped in. He had a kind face, with just a hint of greying at the

LACHLANThe fluorescent lights of the police station buzzed faintly as I walked through the doors, my mind heavily held down by a mixture of dread and determination. Matthew trailed just behind me, his expression stoic but his eyes alert. The station gave a stench of stale coffee mixed with frustration, a combination I’d grown accustomed to during these past few chaotic days. The detective in charge of the case called in earlier today that there have been some findings about the whereabouts of the assailants. It was good news, yes, but there was more, and they couldn’t tell me over the phone, so I had to come down here myself. Detective Harper greeted me with a curt nod. “Mr. Mallory, thank you for coming in. Let’s talk in my office.”I followed her into a small, cluttered room. Matthew remained close. If anyone could recognise Amelia’s attackers, it was him. Which was why I had brought him along with me again. Harper motioned for us to sit, her lips pressed into a grim line.“We fou

Eric’ POVThe night breeze escaping through the floor to ceiling window in my office did absolutely nothing to reduce my frustration. I loosened my tie and relaxed into the leather chair behind my desk. The once organised table is now in a mess, scattered with paperwork and staples pins.A pile of neatly arranged files lay to my right, perfectly aligned, the only thing organised here. I looked up at the wall and onto the pictures, if only I could hang there with them.I finally pulled the tie out of my collar and tossed it onto the desk, running a hand through my hair. Cassandra. The thought of her name alone made my blood boil. She almost ruined everything. The plan had been careful in making but Cassandra, with her nature and jealousy, had nearly torn it all apart in one reckless act. Attacking Amelia? That wasn’t just stupidity; it was sabotage! What I honestly wanted to know was who in the world gave her that foolish idea to hire amateurs to try and harm my woman!Should I cut

Oliver’s POV The glass of whiskey filled with ice cubes stayed there untouched on the desk before me. I stared at it, the familiar temptation lingering in the back of my mind, but for once, it wasn’t enough to drown out the weight on my chest. Amelia. Her name had become a ghost in my life, haunting every corner my body. I tried to push it away, tried to forget her the same way I’d tried to forget her mother’s face. It didn't matter. No matter how much I drank, no matter how much I tried to bury myself, they always came back. I blamed her. I had always blamed her. She looked too much like her, too much like the woman who’d held my world together before it all fell apart. Her eyes, her voice, even the way she carried herself—it was a cruel reflection of what I had lost. When the company fell apart because of my own mistakes, when the creditors came knocking, I convinced myself it was Amelia’s fault too. It made it easier to do what I did. Selling her off to the Mallorys wasn’t